Page 58 of Orc's Possession
I push back the tears. I cannot let my past continue to drag me down, not with my whole future ahead of me. I have to forge a new path. One that might include Atox.
I pat his hand, but don’t move it from where it rests on my stomach. “The bruises are healing. I meant it hurts knowing that my people don’t care about me. Do your people have a word for thank you?”
“Havala.”
“Then, havala, Atox.”
“For treating your injuries?”
“For wanting me when no one else does.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ATOX IM GRAK
Ihand Caju’s reins to Zendar and let him find a good spot for the gorjas to drink and graze while we visit Pen’Kesh. My female stands by my side, eyes darting in all directions as we move through the crowds. With so many beings here, the market can easily overwhelm a person. But Paloma has been to Pen’Kesh before.
“Why are we here?” she asks again, rubbing her palms against the sides of her tunic.
I don’t answer her. She needs to learn patience. And trust. I told her I would protect her. That is all she needs to know.
Unlike past visits to Pen’Kesh, I don’t spread muck on myself today. Paloma’s scent is so intoxicating that it helps me ignore the vile smells of the other humans, vints, and bantarans.
“They’re staring at us,” Paloma whispers.
Not us. Me. They are not accustomed to a clean orc. I flash my tusks, making several of them skitter back. I find satisfaction in keeping them off-balance.
“If the enemy stares at you, stare back. Advance on them, even. Show them your strength and they will often back down.”
“We are always taught to lower our eyes, not to challenge anyone.”
“You are orc now. To challenge is a right, to fight a privilege?—”
“And to die?”
Vekk, she has a way of cutting a male off at the balls. I stop in the middle of the market.
“You are mine, Paloma. No one will touch you, but me. Anyone who dares lay a hand on you will pay with his life.”
She nods. It will have to be enough for now. In time, she will accept that she belongs to me.
As we enter the human section of the market, my female tugs at her tunic. It reaches half way to her knees, more than enough coverage. She wore pants when I first took her. While many female orcs wear pants, I’ve not yet given her any. I like being able to feel her flesh beneath my hand when I want. All of her flesh. At my will, not hers. But the way she continues pulling at the leather leaves me on edge. I haven’t seen this behavior from her before.
I scan the market, looking to locate what makes her uneasy. Her people shake their heads as they whisper to one another while staring at my female.
“Please don’t give me back,” Paloma whispers.
My feet dig into the dirt and I grip her arm, turning her toward me. “Is that why you think we are here?”
She nods.
I’m at a loss, a rarity for me. I was raised to be decisive and stand behind my choices, right or wrong. Indecision is weak, and my grak, my father, did not tolerate weakness.
“You’re sleeping with a beast,” a human shouts at her.
“Traitor!”
“How could you?”
